Rosemary
by Thalia22
Summary: She's walking trouble, that woman. Most people have sense enough to stay away. She see's a man, tall, thin, handsome in a peculiar way. She doesn't remeber him, but it won't be long until he remebers her. *This is not a romance fic*
1. Cowboy Meet Cowgirl

****

Authors Note: This has been reposted. After reading it I realized my grammar and spelling suck. Hehe. So I tried to fix it all. I'm planning on doing this to the other three chapters, before I post the 4th chapter (Which is done). The story hasn't changed at all, just some of the dialogue. Okies, Enjoy!

The landing was bumpy. It almost always was. Especially when you're crash landing in a desert on Jupiter because The Bebop ran out of gas....again. Spike moaned as he sat up slowly. The impact had woken him from his peaceful sleep on the couch and tossed him to the floor like a rag doll. He winced and rubbed the spot where his head had collided with the floor.

"A little warning next time!" he yelled out, to anyone who would listen. He expected a smart-ass reply from Jet but got none. Spike shrugged. He stood up, stretching his long lean body. He pulled his yellow shirt over his bare chest and made his way to the cockpit. Jet was sitting in the pilot's seat, mumbling to either himself or to the ratty map in his hand. 

"Gas?" Spike asked simply, already knowing the answer. 

Jet grunted in reply. 

"What are we gonna do?"

Jet grunted again.

"What are we, cave men now?" Spike said, grinning.

"Not in the mood, Spike," Jet grunted finally 

A high pitched voice sounded in the distance, startling both men. Spike let out a long sigh when he realized its owner. Jet just rolled his eyes.

"A girl can't even get any rest these days!"

Faye stalked right up behind Spike, shoving her way past to yell into Jet's ear. She was wearing a heavy wool robe, covering her barely-there silk night gown. She bent her head right in front of Jet's face. Her finger lifted and pointed to a spot on her head, which couldn't even be seen through the layers of purple hair.

"Look at this! This is where my head said 'Good Morning!' to the nightstand when you made your so-called landing!"

Spike fingered his own knot. 

"I think mine beats yours."

She turned to him, her eyes narrowed. 

"Shove it, fro boy," she hissed.

Spike threw his hands up in surrender. He knew not to get on Faye's bad side, especially not after she was woken up from her "Beauty" sleep. For a few minutes all you could hear was Faye's ranting and yelling. Spike wondered how Jet restrained himself from throwing her out a window. Or at least yelling back, But it seems that he had learned to tune Faye out. He just studied his maps, brow furrowed in concentration. 

"Ah ha!" he yelled suddenly, cutting Faye off mid sentence. He pointed his thick finger to the middle of his map. It landed directly in the middle of a large desert.

"We are here," Jet said triumphantly. Spike and Faye both leaned in close examining the map. Faye snorted. 

"Here is nowhere.," she said and leaned back, "We are in the middle of the fucking desert!" 

"Chill out Faye," Jet snapped, "Your pessimistic attitude is starting to piss me off." 

Spike chuckled but stopped as he caught Faye's elbow in his ribs.

"There is town right here," Jet said, pointing to a miniscule dot quite a ways away from the spot they were at, "Its called Richards. Its only...I say...a few hundred miles. Spike, you got gas in that Swordfish of yours? The hammerhead is all drained out."

"Hey, why didn't you ask me?" Faye chimed in.

Spike thought for a second. 

"I'm pretty sure I have some...but its not much." 

Faye waved her hands around in the air.

"Hheeelllloo!" she yelled, "Why don't you try and ask me!"

"Would it be enough to get to Richards?" Jet asked.

"I'm talking here!" yelled Faye.

"It's probably enough to get there but won't be enough to get back." Spike went on.

Faye stomped her feet.

"Why doesn't someone ask me if I want to go!" 

"FAYE!" Jet yelled loudly causing her to jump, startled with his sudden harsh tone, "You don't have any fucking gas in your ship cause I saw Spike stealing it all!" 

Spike laughed nervously as Faye turned on him slowly. 

"You stole all my gas...." she leaned close to Spikes face, he turned away but she grabbed him by his chin and forced him to look at her. 

"Y-y-ou didn't have that much anyway...." Spike chuckled.

"I paid for the gas out of my own money! I didn't even raid Jet's emergency cash fund like I normally do! That was my own money!!" Faye thundered.

"SHUT THE HELL UP!" Jet roared, "SPIKE! Get in you ship and get the fuck out of here! Faye, go somewhere and stop bitching! I need some fucking peace and quiet so can I can figure out how to fix this heap of junk!!"

Jet leaped out of his seat, shoving the map into Spikes arms then storming out of the room muttering to himself. Something about children and bullets. Faye stuck her nose in the air.

"Well, get a move on, Fro boy! I don't want to be in this hellhole any longer then I have to," she turned on her heel, and walked out of the room as if she was the fucking Queen of England. Spike rolled his eyes. He examined the map. Richards had to be at least 500 miles away. Hopefully his ship would make it there. There was only one way to find out.

***

Spike pushed the Swordfish II faster and harder. He could feel it starting to vibrate as it searched for fuel to burn. It had to be running on fumes at the moment. But he was so close. He could see the small town in the distance but it was still far off. If his ship gave out on him now, he would be walking to Richards. The heat of the Jupiter desert probably would kill him off first. The low fuel light began to blink as his ship started to shake violently. He was almost there.

"Come on." Spike mumbled to his ship as he struggled to remain in control, "Just a few more miles. You can make it...come on...."

He could make out the buildings, he could see the people, soon he could make out street signs. He slowed down, landing softly on the rough terrain. As soon as the wheels hit the ground, The Swordfish II sputtered, and died. Spike climbed out of his ship, giving it a little pat.

"Good job." He smiled. He looked around and his smile started to fall. He landed on the outskirts of what had to be Richards. It was a little shab of a town. It looked like something out of one of those vintage western movies. The town was strangely busy for its size. People walked back and forth, talking and laughing loudly. Very shady looking characters. People Spike even didn't want to mess with. But they didn't notice him as he walked about; he kept his head low, just in case. He searched the area for ships. Where there were ships, there had to be a fuel station. He spotted a large group of ships at the other end of the town. A large sign stuck up from the middle of the mass. It read "Fuel". Spike walked a little quicker. This was a not a place he wanted to stay any longer then he had too. He made his way though the maze of ships and found the small station right in middle. He rushed inside and to the clerk's desk. He was an older man, heavy set, wearing a stained white t-shirt that was way to short and tight. He sat on a stool, fanning himself; his eyes seemed focused on the air. Spike cleared his throat; the man did not look at him. 

"Um...How much fuel?" Spike asked loudly to get the mans attention.

"Ain't got no fuel," the man responded, eyes still fixed on nothing. 

"This is a fuel station, right?"

"Ain't got no fuel. Sold out. Busy time a year. Lotsa bounty hunters. Spect you one too. Ain't got no fuel," The man fell silent and still, except for his small fan moving back and forth. Spike cleared his throat again.

"Could you direct me to the nearest fuel station then?" he asked. 

The man stopped fanning himself. He leaned himself forward as far as he could, his eye seemed to be looking through Spike rather then at him.

"Ain't no other fuel station for 3,000 miles. That's why the place so damn crowded. Most hunters ain't got no where to go until the next shipment of fuel come in."

"When will that be?"

"November."

Spike slammed his hands on the desk.

"But its June!" he yelled. A smile slowly crept onto the mans face.

"I know." 

He leaned back and began to laugh heartily as if he just heard the funniest joke ever written.

"I spect you best make yo'self at home, cowboy!" 

***

The man was still laughing well after Spike was outside. What the hell was he going to do now? They would be stuck till fucking November. Spike could only be grateful that he wasn't on the Bebop with that bitch on wheels. He considered calling Jet and telling him what the deal was, but he didn't feel like hearing Jet screaming in his ears. Not like this was his fault anyway. He lit a much needed cigarette and walked back outside the jungle of space ships and back into the bustling town. He guessed he should find a place to stay. Maybe get something to eat. Make himself at home. He walked down the main road, not really knowing where he was going. Just hoping he bumped into something familiar. Something caught his eye, a blue neon sign flashing on and off. It read "Hearth-throb Saloon." Spike scratched his head. 

"Saloon means bar, right?" he muttered to himself. He shrugged, and walked in side. It was almost like walking back in time. It was a small crowded place. There was a long wooden bar counter and the rest of the room was filled with small wooden tables and stools. It was a rather plain room, except for the lively characters that filled it. Strong, burly, dangerous looking men drank and played cards while beautiful women in tight clothing stood over them smoking their slim cigarettes. Spike was careful not to make eye contact with anyone. He took a vacant seat at the bar and the bartender came to serve him almost immediately. He had slicked down black hair and a face as red as a lobster. Maybe his stiff white collar and starched black vest was cutting off the circulation to his face.

"Whadja have?" 

Spike thought for a minute.

"Scotch." he said after the short pause. The bartender served the scotch quickly and rushed off soon to wait on the bars other inhabitants. Spike took a small sip of the amber liquid, rolling it around in his mouth before swallowing it. He tried to figure out how to break the news to Jet without him getting to upset. Maybe he could just blurt it out in one sentence then hang up? That would work until November when he'd have hell to pay when he showed up. Spike was lost so deep in his thoughts, he didn't realize the woman as she sat down next to him until he heard her voice. 

"Can I have a water, please."

The bartender gave her a crooked look.

"A water???"

"Do you serve White Wine? Or perhaps Olive Martinis?" she asked with a large dose of annoyance in her voice. The bartender put his lobster like hands on the counter, sighing deeply.

"This is a saloon. Not one of them fancy smancy bars you got in them big cities." he said, sounding equally annoyed

"Then give me a fucking water and quit your bitching."

Spike felt the hesitation. He heard the careless sloshing of water and a glass being slammed on the counter, half its contents being spilled over. The bartender stormed away. Spike looked up at the woman for the first time. She raised a slender hand and grasped the glass. She raised it to her lips and took a long gulping drink. She lowered the glass, wiping her moist mouth, dry. She slowly turned her head, till her eyes met Spikes. She smiled a bit. Her skin was an olive tone. She had wild midnight hair entangling its way down her back. Her large almond shaped eyes were a dazzling hazelnut color. They sparkled as she smiled. She was beautiful. But not like the other women in the room. She wasn't sleazy beautiful. She had an elegance to the very way she smiled and sipped her cup. She was young, no more then 22 or 23 years old. She wore a tight knee length black skirt with a tight short cut black top with a long black trench coat draped over her shoulders. Diamond studs sparkled in her ears. She looked strangely familiar, but Spike shook the thought from his head. This was the type of girl you remembered. She opened her mouth and spoke to Spike.

"Can't stand cheap hard liquor. Water is better if you are trying to live healthy anyway.."

Spike smirked at her. 

"Depends on what your definition of healthy living is."

She chuckled low and sexy.

"I'm guessing we have different opinions on that." 

She took another sip of her water. Spike sipped his Scotch. They sat in silence for a few moments. Both seeming to have a lot on their minds. She turned to him spoke again first. 

"So what brings you to this hellhole?" she asked.

"Misfortune."

"Oh, you to?" she turned away, flipping her hair, "I think that's the only reason why anyone ever comes here." 

"Lots of people stay, though I see." he pointed out.

"Only if they have no place else to go."

There was a twinge of sadness to her voice. Spike was curious. Why would a girl like her be in a place like this? He had a gut feeling that she normally wouldn't be caught dead in a place like this. He wanted to ask but at the same time he didn't want to intrude. He wanted to keep the conversation going though. 

"Passing through?" he asked.

"I don't have anywhere to pass on too." she replied. Spike looked over her. She had her elbow on the counter with her chin resting in her hand. Her other fingers were circling the top of her glass. She was staring off into the distance. Spike was hesitant, but he asked anyway.

"Why is that?" 

She looked at him, eyes were wide. He felt he made a mistake in asking. 

"Its a long and crooked story, that I won't bore you with." She said, "You know how these things go. I start off trying to tell one story and by the days over you know every important event that happened to me from birth to now. I will spare you from having to pity me." 

"Mysterious. I like that," Spike said looking into his glass and smiling at the scotch.

"You seem mysterious your self," she grinned at him again. 

"I do it to get girls," Spike said, chuckling, "I once read that mystery is sexy." 

"You must be a super model then." she said, he could tell she almost immediately regretted it. She turned away, briefly. Spike noticed the little red tint in her cheeks. She looked back, straight into his eyes. He lowered them. 

"I once read that you can tell a lot about a person from their eyes," she spoke softly, "That is probably why I haven't been able to get a really good look at yours." 

Spike's smile slowly faded, he didn't look up, just sat there staring into his glass. 

"That's because my eyes tell to much," he said and gulped down the last of the glasses contents. the bartender refilled his glass almost immediately, but not making any move to refill the woman's half-empty water glass. He could feel her staring at him, but he didn't want to look up. They sat in silence again. Spike heard her finish off the last of her glass. 

"So, why are you really here? What kind of misfortune have you had?" she asked him quietly. Spike hesitated.

"I look more like I belong here then you do." he said, avoiding the question, "Why in earth are you here.?" he looked up at her, briefly, before looking back down. 

"Why would you think that?" 

"Well, according to the type of people I've seen here. You should be dressed like..." Spike turned, he pointed to the first woman he saw, "Her."

The woman would better be described as a girl. No older then 17. She was wearing a leather mini skirt, Thigh high boots, and tight low-cut leather halter top that her large breasts were almost popping out of. She obviously just won a poker game, as she was standing and leaning over the table pulling in her winnings. The table were full of men who seemed more interested in her shirt then what looked like the millions of Woolongs they just lost. 

"I have a feeling they are letting her win," Spike said. The woman covered her mouth and laughed at his joke. 

"So you mean I should be some low class sleaze," she said turning back around. "How do you know I'm not?"

"Because your to -" Spike wasn't really sure what he was going to say. 

"Because I'm to beautiful?" she said, smiling at him. A smile crept slowly across his face. That's exactly what he was thinking. 

"Not the first time I've heard that," she said, laughing, "I'm flattered you think of me highly like that."

Spike didn't respond. He just picked up his glass, took another sip. 

"Excuse me, bartender," the woman called out. Spike looked at her, even though she wasn't speaking to him. The bar tender had wandered to the other end of the counter and was involved with idle chitchat with a older looking gentlemen. The woman banged loudly on the counter with her water glass. The bartender glanced behind his shoulder, then turned back to the older man. 

"HEY!" she yelled loudly, "I'm talking to you!" 

The flustered bartender rushed over to her.

"Woman, I suggest you keep that racket down!"

She held out her glass, smiling sweetly.

"Could you gimmie a refill, please?"

The bartender leaned his lobster hands on the counter.

"No refills on water."

"And why not?"

"Cause I said so."

"You're just mad cause you can't charge me for it."

"I can charge you for anything I want. I suggest if you want to keep that spot you better get a real drink. I got paying customers who will want that seat!"

"You can't make me go anywhere."

"Like hell I cain't! Unlike everyone else in this here town, I don't give a damn who your daddy was-"

Obviously the man had hit a nerve. There was a loud crash as the water glass collided with the opposite wall. Before Spike even realized it, the woman had the bartender by his collar, a switchblade pressing into his neck, already drawing blood.

"Don't you ever mention my father again you pathetic piece of shit," She hissed in his ear. "Or I will kill you." 

The bartender gulped hard. His eyes looked around fearfully, resting on Spike briefly. Spike had no intention of doing anything. He was in a bit of shock. This was almost a different woman then the one he was talking to a few seconds ago. The sweet smile was now replaced by an blood thirsty sneer. Her sparkling eyes were now cold and hard. It was as almost if she was a real Jekyll and Hyde. 

"You wouldn't dare," the bartender chocked out. 

"Wanna bet?" she said with pure venom, "No one would care. No one is even watching us now are they?" 

Spike looked behind him. It was true. No one was watching them. They all drank their beers, played their games. No one paid attention to the crazy woman holding a knife to a mans throat. 

"I'd slit your throat, then leave you to rot in the sun. You know its true. And I'd get away scott free." 

She pressed the knife harder. Blood trickled down his neck. She leaned in close.

"Scott free," she whispered. She drew herself back quickly, loosening her grip on the man. "Now" she said almost non-chalantly, "Is there anything you have to say?"

The bartender swallowed hard. He was visibly shaking by now and sweat was streaming down his face. His bottom lip quivered as he tried to get out the words.

"C-c-c-can I get y-y-you any-t-t-thing?" he squeezed his eyes shut as if he thought she was going to plunge the knife in right then and there. But a small smile spread across her face. Then the return of her angelic innocent features.

"Why yes, I'd like another water please. And another drink for my friend here," she motioned to Spike with her head, "On the house." 

She released the man. He feel to the floor but was quickly back on his feet. 

"Yes' am," he stuttered and he quickly served her a new glass of water and sat Spike's scotch down before running off. The woman sat back down, looking quite proud of herself as she sipped her water. Spike stared at her blankly before reaching for his fresh glass of scotch. 

"Guess I fit in her a little more then you think," she said quietly. Spike knew when he was wrong. 

"Ran out of gas." he said, raising his glass. She turned to him.

"Pardon me?" she said, confused. 

"You asked me what kind of misfortune I had," he paused as he sipped his drink, "I ran out of gas."

Spike didn't notice the girl slowly lowering her eyes and biting her lower lip. She said nothing. Just turned back to the counter. She reached for her glass, but it shattered before her hand could even grasp it. She yelped, pulling back her hand. The whole bar had gone quiet. Spike slowly turned in his stool to look where everyone else was facing. A man stood in the doorway. He was middle aged, his brown hair cut in a short army like hair cut. He wore a black suit and black sunglasses, a gun in his outstretch hand. 

"I think you know what this is about," he said, looking directly at the woman next to Spike.

"Shit...." she cursed quietly as two more identical men joined the other man in the doorway. Spike could see her trying to contain her fear but the sweat on her forehead was giving her away. She gritted her teeth and tilted her head up before slowly rising out of her stool. 

"Yes, I do," she said calmly. In a quick movement she had grabbed Spike by the hand and leaped over the bar counter, pulling him with her. The firing had began immediately. Spike winced as he watched the bullets pierce the wall above his head. He could hear people in the bar screaming as they ran out of the path of the bullets. 

"What the hell is going on!?" Spike asked, half yelled, at the woman. She wasn't paying any attention to him. She had pulled a silver pistol out of her coat and was currently loading it. Mrs. Hyde has returned. 

"Get ready," she said to him. She grabbed his hand again, taking off from behind the counter. She fired a few quick shots, catching two of the men off guard. Her and Spike bolted out the door and made their way through the crowd of people standing outside the bar. No one tried to stop them. They even stepped to the side to let them pass. Spike looked behind him to see the path closing in front of the black clad man that had been in hot pursuit. His fellow bounty hunters, obviously giving him a helping hand. He looked to see where she was dragging him. Her hand was clenched around his wrist, as she heaved her way through the crowd at a high speed. She ducked into an alley, startling Spike. She stopped so suddenly ,Spike stumbled and almost feel to the ground. She stopped, resting her hand on her hips trying to catch her breath.

"Not easy...running....in platform boots," she said between breaths. She smiled a bit but her smile fell when she saw the furious look Spike had on his face.

"What the hell was that about!?" Spike yelled, throwing his arms up in the air in anger, "What the fuck is going on???? You almost got me killed!"

She glanced at the ground quickly, as if she was ashamed of something. 

"I don't think you even want to know." 

She ran her hand through her hair and leaned against the wall. She stood up straight suddenly. 

"Take me with you," she said. The shock was readable on Spikes face. 

"What?" he said, not sure what he was hearing. She walked up close to him, putting her hands together in front of her.

"Please. I didn't think they would find me here. I was sure this would be the last place they would think I'd be. They must be trailing me better then I thought. I need somewhere to go. Somewhere they don't know of." she said, her eyes burned into Spikes. 

"They can't look for me somewhere they don't know exists." 

Spike went with his first thought.

"Hell no! You are way to much trouble. God knows, I have enough of that." 

Spike started to walk away, but she caught his wrist in that same strong grip.

"You can't go anywhere without me," she said seriously. He wrenched his hand out of her grip violently.

"Threats aren't going to get you anywhere." he spat at her. He really didn't take well to being threatened.

"Its not a threat!" she yelled back at him, "Its the truth." She brushed a stray strand of hair out of her face, a know-it-all smile crossing her lips.

"That gas station," she started, "Hasn't had gas in about 6 years." 

Spike's eyes widened. 

"The clerk told me they were getting a shipment in November!" he sound angrily. She scoffed. "Who, Stan?" she laughed a bit, "That man is as crazy as they come. They stopped shipping him fuel when he started believing he didn't have to pay for it."

Spike wasn't hearing this right. No gas meant he was stuck there. And Jet and Faye would sit in the desert and starve.

"I'll take you to the next town. Get your gas and take you back to your ship. You just have to give me that one favor."

Spike's brain raced, trying to find his other options. 

"I'm sure that I can find someone willing to take me to the next town for a few Woolongs rather then a boarding pass," Spike said, he turned to walk out of the alley but Rose caught his wrist again.

"You can't go out there," she said half panicked, "They've seen you with me. They'll kill you if they see you hanging around." 

Spike wrenched himself out of her grip again. 

"Well, that's just great!" he yelled, "I just meet you 20 minutes ago, and you already have men out trying to kill me!"

"Its not my fault," she said irritated, "But if you just get me off this damn planet, you won't have anything to worry about."

Spike let out and exasperated breathe, scratching his head. He turned to away from the girl, to the opposite wall. There were no other options. He turned back to her. 

"What's your name?" he asked.

"What?" she said, confused.

"I want to know your name."

She raised her eyebrows, then smiled.

"Rosemary," she said sweetly, "But everyone calls me Rose." 

***

The Swordfish soared smooth and high the air, the bright sun glittering on the shiny hull. The gas tank was full. It even got a good scrub down. He was on his way back to the bebop with enough fuel to travel to Pluto and back, about 30 times. Jet would be pleased about that, if nothing else. Maybe he would be so happy that Spike got the gas so quickly that he wouldn't mind the new baggage. The baggage named Rosemary. 

"Damn, Jet and Faye will NOT be happy."


	2. What Did You expect?

****

Authors Note: This had been reposted due to the ridiculous amount of errors. teeheee. ^_^

Spike stood outside of the door of The Bebop. He would reach for the door, retract his hand, pace for a bit, stop, scratch his head, then the cycle would repeat. 

"Will you just get it over with?" Rose said from behind him, "They won't feel sorry for you if you scratch all your hair out."

Spike glared at her temporarily. She was starting to wear on his nerves a little bit. But he could say one good thing about her. She packed light. She stood with just one small black tote bag at her feet. Her arms were crossed as she waited to be introduced into her new home. She didn't seem to know how un-welcomed she would be. Well, if she did, it didn't really seem to bother her. Her face was calm and a little bored. She tapped her foot impatiently. 

"Well," Spike said finally, "Here goes nothing."

He entered the Bebop, Rose close behind. Spike guessed his first stop should be the bonsai room. With all the frustration he suffered earlier, Jet must be taking it out on his trees. 

"Damnit!" a loud voice boomed down the hallway.

Spike was right. He stood in the doorway of the bonsai room. Jet had one gloved hand holding the clippers and the other holding his baldhead. What looked like half a bonsai tree laid on the table. Jet mumbled something, it sounded like stress and children. 

"Hey there," Spike said. Jet looked up, startled. He looked Spike up and down.

"Bout damn time," he said, going back to mutilating his bonsai trees, "How much did you get?"

"Enough to get off this damn planet," Spike said, scratching his head. 

"How much did it cost?"

"Not too much."

"Well, what are you waiting for? Fill up the tank so we can get the hell out of here."

Spike hesitated.

"Um, there is something you might want to know."

Jet raised both his hands in the air and shook his head.

"Please, no more bad news. I don't think me or my bonsai trees can take anymore." 

"But I think you might want to know."

Jet let lowered his arms with a deep heavy sigh. 

"Shoot."

Spike took a deep breath.

"Well, I had to pick up a little extra.....baggage."

"What kind of baggage... " Jet said suspiciously.

"Uummm..." Spike started rubbing the back of his neck. "The living and breathing kind." 

Jet didn't blink.

"Please." he said after a short pause. "Tell me it's a gold fish."

"Yeah, it's a goldfish." Spike chucked nervously. "A 125 pound one the walks and talks and lives out of water."

"Ahem," Rose chimed in. Spike jumped a bit. He had almost forgotten she was there. She had stepped next to Spike and into Jet's viewing range. 

"For the record," she said, with a large smile plastered over her lips, "I weigh less then that."

Jet said nothing. He just glanced from Rose to Spike then back again. His face was un-readable. 

"I know I'm no more then 115," she continued. 

Jet remained silent. He stared at this girl, looking her up and down. Rose took a few steps near him, held out her hand and smiled.

"My name is Rosemary, it's a pleasure to meet you Mr. Black. Spike told me a lot about you."

Jet stared down at the girl's hand, he made no effort to take it. Rose got the hint, and slowly lowered her hand. Spike laughed nervously.

"Well," he said uncomfortably. "Isn't this nice..."

Jet cleared his throat, finally ready to speak.

"Spike," he said softly, "Can I have a few words with you." He looked at Rose coldly, "Alone."

***

Rosemary stood outside the closed door listening to the yelling even though she couldn't make out the words. She sighed, brushing her long curly black bangs out of her face. She knew she was going to be un-welcomed but this was a little ridiculous.

"These people must not like people," she muttered to herself. 

Spike had at least done a good job prepping her before she came.

"Jet will yell, that's a given," Spike had told her, "Let me introduce you to Faye. But If I don't get too, watch for guns." 

Rose got nervous as she remembered that statement. She looked down the long hallway to her left, then to her right. It was empty. She leaned against the wall, listening to the yelling for a little while longer. She was getting bored and began pacing the hallway. Soon she found herself walking off. She had no idea where this long hall lead too, but if she was going to be living there for a few weeks at least, she should get to know her new home. As she walked, the scenery never really changed. The walls were a dirty rusted metal, the floor was worn away. Every once in a while she'd pass a small metal door that was either locked or rusted shut. So she kept walking. Soon the hallway blossomed and she found herself in a large equally ugly room. There was a small yellow chair and a yellow couch. A small table held a tiny broken down TV. A rusted ceiling fan turned slowly on the high ceiling. 

"It's definitely not the Ritz," she mumbled to herself. She might not have bothered with Spike if she knew the horrible conditions he squallered in. 

She sat on the couch. It was a little more comfortable then it looked. Obviously well used. She reached out and fiddled with the old Tv. All the button labels had worn off so she just pushed various buttons but with no effect. She narrowed her eyes in frustration and hit it hard on the side. Nothing happened. She hit it harder and harder. Finally, the TV flicked on. A tall blonde lady appeared, talking about a some new miracle soap. Rose reached up to try to change the channel but she felt herself being pulled back into her seat. An arm wrapped around her neck and it squeezed tight, pinning her. She pulled and tugged at the arm but stopped when she felt something-hard press against her head. It was the all to familiar feel of the tip of a gun pressed against her temple. A low feminine voiced whispered in her ear.

"You ready to die tonight?"

***

"You can't just bring people on the ship like that!" Jet hollered, "We barely make enough money to support the three of us. I don't even now how we survived with Ed and Ein around."

"That's cause those two would eat anything," Spike muttered.

"I'm not laughing, Spike," Jet hissed, "Do you ever think? Do you? Do you ever think about anyone except yourself?"

"I was thinking of everyone else, that's why she's here," Spike spoke, irritated, "are you even going to let me explain or are you just going to yell at me like I'm a goddamn child?" 

Spike had stood, silent for what seemed like half an hour while Jet yelled. He knew he just had to let Jet get it all out of his system. But when Jet called him selfish, it really pissed him off. Spike was being anything but selfish. He did what he had to do for the well being of the crew. 

Jet narrowed his eyes suspiciously at Spike. He let out a sigh and crossed arms.

"Okay," he said, "Explain."

"There was no fuel in Richards," Spike said, "She offered to take me the next town if I would let her stay with us for a while. I had no other options." 

Jet said nothing, looking at the floor. He looked back up at Spike.

"That still doesn't change the fact of how we are going to deal with the extra expense."

Spike shrugged.

"She can help with bounties," he said.

"She looks a little...feminine...to handle bounties," Jet said a little skeptical.

"I think she can handle it." Spike said, through a wide smile. Jet sighed.

"Well, she better. Just because you promised her something, doesn't mean I can't break that promise for you."

"That's true," Spike agreed. He turned and began to leave. Jet called after him.

"I just hope Faye is open to this."

***

Spike closed to door behind him, Jet's last statement staying with him a little longer then the rest of his lecture. 'Hey, Faye would just have to deal,' Spike though. She could deal just like he and Jet dealt with her when she invited herself to stay on the Bebop. These thoughts left him quickly. He looked left and right. Rose was no where in sight.

"I told her to wait for me.." he muttered through his teeth. He walked towards the living area, hopefully she hadn't gotten in much trouble. Her arrived at the opening and shook his head and what he saw. Obviously she had gotten in trouble. He didn't bother to rush over. He just shoved his hands in his pockets and calmly walked to the couch where Rose sat, in a headlock with a gun pressed to her head. Who other then Faye was carrying out this attack. He stopped in front of them, he looked at Rose's slightly panicked face to Faye. He couldn't help but grin a little.

"Faye," Spike said slowly, "What are you doing?" 

Her mouth twisted, slightly annoyed.

"What does it look like?" she spat. Her annoyance was then replaced by a sinful smirk, "This pretty girl I guess decided she would break in and take a rest from that desert sun. She picked the wrong ship to break into though. I'm sure she knows that now, right little girl?"

Faye nudged the gun hard against Rose's head. She didn't get the reaction she was looking for, as Rose had no reaction. She was starting to look bored. She even had the nerve to yawn a bit. 

"Hey!" Faye yelled at her, "I don't know if you noticed but there's a gun to your head!"

"Not the first time..." Rose said with little emotion, "So your Faye, huh?"

Faye's eyebrow twitched. Spike just grinned. He turned his attention to Rose.

"This is why I told you to wait for me." he said. She rolled her eyes.

"I know she was supposed to be a bitch, but this is a little ridiculous, don't you think?" Rose said, she turned her head towards Faye as much as she could, which wasn't much as Faye still had a strong grip around her neck.

"Do you try to kill all your guests?" Rose asked.

"Guests?" Faye said in confusion. Spike cleared his throat. 

"Yeah, uh. Faye, meet Rose. Our new Shipmate."

"Nice to meet you," Rose said sarcastically. Faye dropped the gun from Rose's head. 

"WHAT??" she said. Rose shifted uncomfortably. 

"Can we talk about this after you release my neck?" 

"Let her go, Faye," Spike said. Faye's arm slowly uncurled from around Rose's neck. She stood up straight and stared at Spike in confusion.

"Explain," she stated simply. Spike shrugged, still grinning a little. 

"I had no choice but to bring her a long," he stated simply. The newly freed Rose turned around and looked at Faye for the first time. The two women looked each other up and down, If spike didn't know any better he would think they were sizing each other up. But he knew nothing about women. Faye looked over at Spike and shook her head.

"Nuh uh," she stated, "Not gonna happen."

"To bad you don't have a say in the matter," he replied coolly. Faye crossed her arms. 

"All Shipmates have a say in this matter and I say she goes. Now."

"Me and Jet say she stays, so she stays." 

"Where is she going to sleep?" Faye said quickly.

"In Ed's old room."

Faye just shook her head.

"How is she going to pay bills."

Spike outright laughed at that.

"Shut up, Faye. What bills do you pay?" 

"I help with bounties," she said snootily. 

"And so will she." Spike looked down and Rose. Making it clear to her that she WILL help with bounties. 

"We can't afford it!" Faye half yelled, obviously desperate for more reasons to say no.

"We will manage." Spike said.

Faye's mouth opened as if she was going to say more. But it closed. She shoot venomous glares and them both. She let out a loud "Humph" and stomped off. Spike chuckled. 

"I saw that coming a mile away," he looked at Rose. She was smiling too. But it wasn't an amused smile like Spike's. It was a smile that made Spike's smile fade off his face. She stood up slowly, and stood close to his face. 

"Why, Mr. Spike Spiegel," she said in a heavy fake southern American accent, "If I didn't know no bettah. I would think you want me to stay almost as bad as Miss. Faye wants me to leave." Her eyes glistened. Spike lost his composure but for a second before regaining it quickly, smirking at her. He leaned in close.

"But you know better, right?" he whispered. He turned, and began walking away, "Down that hall 2nd door on left," he yelled over his shoulder not looking back. He didn't see Rose sucking her teeth irritably and glare after him. 

***

Down the hall, 2nd door on the left. Rose made her way down the hall with her small tote bag in hand. She found the room, opened the door. The room was small, and it was a mess. Whoever this Ed person was didn't clean up before they left. Papers were strewn all over the floor and on the bed. They were covered with odd little smiley faces. She cleared off the bed, and set her tote bag down. She began pulling out the contents. She only had 2 different outfits and a few toiletries. It was all she had time to grab when she was found at her home a few weeks earlier. She would never admit it, but when she felt that gun against her head this evening, she thought she had been found again. That was before she found out it was her psychotic new roommate. She picked up her clothes and placed them in the small dresser (which had smiley faces drawn all over it.) 

"Maybe I can get Faye to take me shopping," she said aloud, laughing as she remembered that ridiculous yellow outfit. 

Her laughter died quickly though. She sighed heavily. She looked at the rusted walls, and the small unkempt little bed. So this was what she was reduced too? Traveling in a rust palace with people who didn't even want her there. This was what they drove her too. She had to leave her life behind and take to wandering space with strangers. This thought made a lump form in her throat. She wanted to scream and throw the small bed across the room. But she didn't she. She slipped out of her trench coat and her boots. She crawled under the thin covers. She was tired. Having your life threatened twice in 24 hours took a lot out a person. She laid her head down softly. She wanted to cry. But Rosemary Eve Desovelli didn't cry. She swallowed her sorrows, and slept away her tears.


	3. Ghost from the Past

****

Authors Notes: This has been reposted due the ridiculous amount of errors. Hopefully I got them all. I also tweaked the dialogue between Rose and Jet at the end but there has been no major plot changes.

Children were taught when they were little not to wander the streets alone. Especially not these streets. Most children had enough sense to obey. She had sense, but still she wandered this dark roadway, marching along to the beat of distant car horns and rattling trash cans. The moon reflected off the wet concrete was the only light. The little girl pushed her wild damp black bangs from her hazel eyes and glanced side to side. She knew better, why was she here? She couldn't recollect anything before now. All she remembered is damp brick walls with dark windows that watched her like black ghost eyes. Her pace quickened without her even realizing. She wrapped her arms around her tiny frame. It was cold. She only wore a long sleeved thin black shirt and a little black skirt. Her black stockings were torn and ripped and she was missing one black shoe. She was running now. Her barefoot becoming soaked, splashing in swallow puddles. She didn't know where she was going, she was just running. The surrounding walls blurred as he eyes filled with tears. She cried out and those tears spilled onto her cheeks. Her foot caught something, she was falling now. She put her hands up to guard her body from the upcoming ground. Her hands made contact, the her body, and her face. She laid there, still whimpering quietly. She sat with her eyes closed and her teeth clenched. 'Daddy, it hurts.' she thought. But there was no answer. She pulled herself onto her knees and raised her hands to her face, examining her raw and bloody palms. She closed her fist, squeezing them shut trying to ignore the pain. She could feel warm blood tricking down her cheek. She placed a foot firmly on the ground and tried to heave herself up. But she feel back to her knee. She felt herself falling forward and put her hands on the ground to support herself. She stayed still on her hand and knees, her head bowed. She tried to breathe slowly but her heart was beating so fast. She sat there in the silence, but the silence was broken. There was a distant tapping sound. She held her breathe. It was getting louder. It was footsteps. Coming closer and closer. It wasn't long before two shinny black shoes appeared in her vision. Those shoes were way to shiny and clean to be found on this dirty forlorn road. She felt something press against the back of her head. Something small and hard. It clicked. She whimpered. 'Daddy..'

BANG.

***

Roses eyes fluttered open. She surveyed the room, then groaned loudly remembering where she was. She shut her eyes, rolling over on her side. 

Bang. Bang.

"Come out now if you want to eat," sounded a deep voice from the other side of the door, "I don't serve." 

Rose listened as the heavy footsteps, that more then likely belonged to Jet, stalked down the hallway. She reluctantly sat herself up. Her first sleep on board the Bebop was not a good one. The bed was lumpy, the room smelled of must, and there was this tapping sound that was near driving her mad. And that dream. She'd had it before. It was always the same. She was a child alone, wet, and frighten. Then the man with the shiny shoes. Rose shook her head. She had no time to contemplate her dreams. They were just dreams after all, they meant nothing. She smoothed back her wild hair as best as she could and threw the thin blanket off of her. She stood, stretching, and glanced at the small clock on the bed stand. 10:23am. She didn't really feel like leaving her room. She didn't want to meet any contempt filled faces. But she hadn't a choice. She put her hand on the door ready to open it when silver flash caught her eye. Her gun laid on the small end table next to her bed, exactly where she had set it last night. She eyed it for a little while, before picking it up in her hand. She tucked it into the back of her skirt, making sure her tank top concealed it. She sucked in some air, plastered her best fake smile on her face and emerged from the small bedroom. She picked a direction to walk and hoped she was walking the right way. She heard voices and presumed she was. The hall opened into the small living area. Jet and Spike were sitting around the table, eating what looked like, but didn't smell like, breakfast and talking. Jet looked up at Rose, narrowed his eyes. He looked back down to his plate of food. 

"Foods in the kitchen," Jet said. Spike looked up. She was relived to she him smile, even if it was a small one.

"Yo," he said, going back to eating. She nodded silently. 

"Good morning."

"Sleep well?" he asked without looking up. It didn't take long for her to realize his expression was not a friendly smile, but a smirk. She narrowed her eyes, looking him up and down.

"Dandy," She replied coolly. 

"Well this isn't a hotel, princess," Spike chuckled. 

Rose didn't respond. She just turned and made her way towards the kitchen. She saw the heap of whatever it was on the counter. She scooped a large helping of it on a plate. She hadn't really eaten in almost 24 hours and even the foul smell was inviting. She shoved a forkful in her mouth. It tasted awful. She shoved another forkful in her mouth, her mouth filling with food. 

"Trying to eat yourself to death or something?"

Spike entered the kitchen, two dirty plates in hand. He grinned at Rose, making his way to the sink. 

"Fuck off," she muttered through a mouthful of food. Spike narrowed his eyes.

"My aren't we testy today. Did your father teach you to talk like that?" he said tauntingly.

Rose, caught off guard, swallowed the partially chewed lump of food. She threw him he dirtiest look she could possibly conjure it. It didn't seem to phase him at all though. He just leaned against the counter, arms crossed, with that stupid grin on his face. 

"What do you know about my father?" she hissed, dumping her dish in the sink almost violently. 

"Absolutely nothing," he answered. Rose put her hands on her hips, looking him up and down. 'What the hell is he getting at?' she thought to herself. 

"All I know," Spike continued, smiling "Is that's it a touchy subject and I just felt like pissing you off." 

She didn't say anything immediately. Her face softened a bit, but only a little. 

"What makes you think that its touchy," she said a little quieter. Spike leaned his head back and let out a loud laugh. 

"What kind of question is that!" he exclaimed, "Do you not remember the man you almost killed yesterday? Or the way you kept calling out Daddy in your sleep," he had stopped laughing but he was smiling at her like he knew something she didn't. She gritted her teeth. She could feel hot tears building up behind her eyes. How dare he speak of her father.

"It's none of your god damn business," she said, turning around and stalking out of the kitchen. She thought for a moment he would call after her but she was mistaken. She started on her way to her room, but stopped. Faye was leaning against the wall with across from her room, cigarette in hand. She was inhaling on it leisurely. Rose turned to the living area. Jet still sat on the couch, flipping through the channels on the small television. He sipped a beer before deciding on a channel. 'Jet or Faye?' Rose thought. She decided. She walked slowly into the living area, Jets eyes lingered up long enough to establish eye contact but went back to the TV without a word. She sat on the yellow couch, as far away from Jet as possible. He gave her a curious glance out the corner of his eye but they said nothing. She stared at the television as if watching, but her mind was far away from the kung fu movie. She felt utterly miserable. She had the last week of her life to blame for this. She reflected on the events that landed her where she was. It was like a horrible movie playing over and over in her head. Her new shipmates were not helping. Especially not Spike. She could feel the hot tears straining to spill over her bottom eye lids. But she wiped them away even before they left her eyes. But more came to take their place. It wasn't hard for Jet to notice she was crying. Her face was dry, and she made no sobbing sounds but she was franticly wiping her eyes.

"Are you going to be okay?" he said, sounding a little uncomfortable. 

She didn't trust herself to open her mouth. She just nodded, clenching her eyes shut. She could feel Jet shifting awkwardly on the couch. 

"I hate seeing women cry," he said quietly.

"I'm NOT crying!" She snapped, "I don't cry." 

"Tough girl, eh?" he gave a half smile, "Yeah, you and Faye will be two peas in a pod. If she doesn't kill you first. I would have thought Spike would have been a bit nicer to you. I'm the one supposed to be an asshole about this. He did just take it upon himself to invite people aboard my ship." 

Rose's ears perked up upon hearing this, 

"I thought this was Spike's ship." she said and Jet let out a hearty laugh. 

"I don't think that man owns the clothes on his back."

Rose lowered her head a bit.

"Now I feel like I've intruded. I would have thought he would have told me no or that he needed talk the owner of the ship." she said, sympathetically. Jet laughed once more.

"Yes, that's what a normal person would have done but not Spike," Jet said, not with anger or resentment, but what sounded like adoration. Jet turned his attention back to the movie and they sat in silence. Rose tried to follow what was happening on the screen but the movie was so confusing. Three minutes ago these two men where holding guns to each other heads and all of a sudden they are grasping each other in an embrace. Who was the woman who just ran on screen? She was bored, and wanted to keep the conversation going.

"So how did you two meet?" she said with friendly curiosity, "You and Spike?"

Jet just waved his hand carelessly in the air, not thinking much of her question. 

We just ran into each other one day. In a bar on Mars. He was looking for a place to stay for a while and I wanted the company. He said he just wanted to catch a ride to Jupiter and he'd be out of my hair." Jet shrugged with a little smile. "That was about 3 years ago, almost to the day as a matter of fact.." 

Rose when went silent. Her eyes widened a bit, she then shook her head a bit. 'Just a coincidence.' she thought. 'Nothing more.' She tried to reassure herself but it wasn't working. She couldn't help thinking it. What if it was true?

"Sounds like he really wanted to get away from something, she said innocently, eyes on the floor. "Or someone…" she lifted her eyes to see Jet quickly shift his attention to her. His expression was dark as he looked her up and down. She kept her cool, looking back at him as if she knew nothing. 

"Yeah.." he said gruffly, "Maybe."

"Who?" Rose spat out before she could stop herself. She felt her self go pink as Jet glared at her.

"If he wants you to know, he'll tell you." he said harshly, trying to make it known that the conversation was over. But Rose ignored that message.

"Sounds serious," she muttered, lowering her eyes.

"Yeah." Jet said, sipping his beer. 

An uncomfortable silence fell over them. Rose had questions, many questions ,that she wanted answers for and it was obvious Jet knew but he sure as hell wasn't going to tell her. She turned back to the screen trying to concentrate on the movie but her mind was certainly elsewhere. The same word going through her mind. She didn't realize it when she spoke it out loud. Jets head snapped to her. 

"What did you just say?" he asked in shock. Rose blinked and shook her head vigorously.

"I didn't say anything," she said, panicked. Jet rose from his seat, staring down at her. She sunk back into the cushion.

"Cobras," he muttered, "You just said Cobras."

Rose stared back at him, cursing herself for speaking her thoughts. She had a habit of doing that. 

"What do you know about the Cobras?" he said seriously, eyes narrowed. She shook her head again, black hair flying everywhere.

"Nothing!" she half screamed, "I know nothing." 

Jet stared down at the frightened girl, his face softening. His face paled, and his eyes widen. His mouth was forming a silent O of shock.

"You can't be…." he said quietly. 

Rose said nothing. Her face turned from fear to determination. She leapt off the couch, trying to push past him but he caught her by the arm. She struggled against his grip but he was much stronger then her. He hooked his arms around her waist, holding her against him. She wormed around in his hands but it was no use. He grabbed her wild mop of hair, and moved it away from her neck. A small dark blotch shaped like a star laid in the middle of her neck. 

"Jesus…" Jet muttered. He loosened his grip on the girl. Her sudden release surprised her, she turned to face him, her hazel eyes wide and wild. She knew she should run but she didn't. He looked into her eyes, astonished.

"I don't believe this," he muttered. "Rosemary Eve Desovelli." 

"Are you going to kill me?" she said, panicked. Jet blinked. 

"No!" he yelled, looking scandalized. He ran a hand over his bald head, looking away. "I thought you were already dead." 

"Seems like I'm closely related to death these days." she said, taking a step back, "Everyone either thinks I am dead or wants me dead." 

Jet extended her his head,

"Look," he said. "I'm not going to hurt you." 

"How am I supposed to know that," she said, her eyes fixed on his 

"Because," he sighed, lowering his voice "Why would I kill you after I went through so much trouble to save your life?"

Rose's frighten eyes widened in shock. 

"What are you talking about.." she asked, feeling confused and scared. Was this just another trick to lure her to her death?

"I was the one who worked your family's case when I was with the ISP. I had met your father years ago. A great man, he was. All I wanted to do was keep him and his family alive." Jet took a step towards Rose, his eyes sentimental as thoughts of his past flooded his mind. "I saved your life many times, but still I thought they took you away from me. And now, here you are. Sitting in front of me 10 years later. A ghost from way back then."

"I am no ghost," she spoke harshly, still backing away slowly. A smiled crept on Jet's lips. 

"You're not." He said, crossing his arms over his chest. "You're very much alive."

Jet stared at her with a peculiar look of contentment on his face that made her nervous.

"I can't guarantee how long I'll stay that way." She spat out. 

"Well." Jet said. "It won't happen on my watch. I may not have done a good job protecting you 10 years ago, but I'll be damned if I let those bastards get to you now." 

He took a step towards her, she stepped back. 

"Cut it out, I just told you I'm going to protect you." He said, eyebrows furrowed.

"Excuse me for not believing you." She said, not breaking eye contact. "I've been lied too to many times." 

Rose slowly put an arm behind her back, She felt around until she felt the cold steel. She tightened her hand around the handle of her gun. She was going shoot, and make a run for it. She probably wouldn't get to far, but she wasn't going to be lured into death with this bait. Jet turned his back to her, one arm crossed over his stomach, his other hand rubbing his chin.

"You're father came to me," he spoke, softly, "three days before his murder to make arrangements. He knew there was a price on his head. He, you and your mother were supposed to move into a government safe house but the day before you were to leave, all three of you vanished. We tracked you down, found you running in an alley. You ran right into the hands of a dragon but I was able to get them before they got you. I was to late to save anyone else…"

Rose stared at the back of this man's bald head, his broad shoulders and the silver metal arm. Her grip on the gun loosened. Her eyes softened, and he tense face fell. 

"We didn't even get a chance to properly protect you before they came after you again," Jet continued, "They won that time."

Rose titled her head on the side, staring at him in disbelief. 

"I remember you…" she said quietly, "I remember you…Jet….Black."

Her hand dropped from the gun, she wrapped her arms around herself. Jet turned around.

"That's me. With a few alterations," he said, lightly touching his metal arm. He looked back up at her with almost a smile on his face, "I swore to him that I'd take care of you and I will." he said, his eyes sincere. "I will this time."

***

Spike stood in the doorway, watching this almost happy scene. He had heard everything. This girl, he knew she looked familiar but he had paid no mind when he first saw her. His arms were crossed and he leaned his tall frame against the doorway. His dark eyes were fixed on her and Jet. 'She wouldn't stay here if she knew.' he thought, 'If she knew about my past.' He remembered her. He came to the conclusion, its best that she leave, before she remembered him. It was only a matter of time till her memories were jogged enough and then bad things happened. 


	4. Modern Devil

****

Authors Note: Ack, Finally got this done! I've had the worse writers block, then all of a sudden it passed and I couldn't stop myself from writing. lol. I'm gonna stop making promises about my stories, cuz I just break them. lol. I'm gonna try to get the next chap out soon. I'm on summer vacation so if I don't, its laziness or writers block. Oh wait, I forgot to do this in earlier chaps sooo….I don't own CB, blah blah blah. Okies, my ass is covered now. Bye bye! 

Jet entered the room, two steaming mugs in his hand, and a strange smile upon his face. He approached young Rose on the couch. She sat on the long yellow couch with her knees pressed to her chest, gazing into space with a troubled look on her face. Upon hearing Jet's footsteps she was torn from her daze. She looked at him and let a small grateful smile form on her lips. He handed the small mug to her and she took it gratefully, muttering a small thank you. Jet sat on the opposite chair. He took a sip of the hot liquid and winced. 

"Whoa!" he said, his face twisted, "Either this has been in the cabinet a lot longer then I thought or it needs a lot more sugar."

Rose chuckled, sipping her mug.

"I think your just not used to coffee, its fine," she said, and Jet nodded.

"Yeah, that's probably true," he said and sat down the mug on the small table. He looked up and watched her take small sips.

"Quit looking at me like that." she said, the mug pressed to her lips.

"Like what?"

"Like I'm some lost treasure you've found," she said, looking into his eyes, "It makes me uncomfortable."

Jet said nothing, he just leaned back in his chair crossing his arms with that same smile plastered on his face. 

"I guess you could think of yourself that way," he said simply, avoiding the strange look she was giving him. She didn't say anything, she took one last sip before setting her mug down on the table. She sectioned off a piece of her hair and began nervously raking her fingers through the tangles. 

"So…" Jet began, his eyes fixed on her. 

"So what?" she said, without looking up. Her fingers still moving continuously through the dark strands. 

Jet's expression turned dark as he prepared himself to bring up the gloomy subject of her past. 

"Where have you been ?" he asked quietly. He watched her face intently, looking for a reaction. There was none.

"Around," she said simply. Jet sighed, knowing this wasn't going to be easy. 

"Does anyone know you're here?" he asked. She shook her head. 

"Would you like me to call someone, tell them your okay?" Jet asked, hopefully. But Rose shook her head once more. 

"I don't have anyone." 

Jet sighed, giving up. He remained quiet, noticing her reluctance to speak. 

"I have a debt to pay," Rose spoke suddenly, she looked up at Jet, "To the devil. He wants something from me."

Jet raised an eyebrow, thoroughly confused but he let it go. She looked back down to the floor, hand running through her hair. Footsteps approached from behind, Jet turned to see Spike entering the room from the kitchen. 

"What are we watching?" Spike said, looking at the TV. He slumped onto the couch next to Rose, ignoring the dirty look he was receiving from both people. He turned the TV volume up full blast, just catching the end to the Kung Fu. He threw his hands up in the air.

"Why didn't you tell me this was on!" he said loudly. "This is my favorite movie!" 

Spike settled himself into the couch, watching the screen intensely. Rose shifted her eyes from him to Jet, who got the messege.

"Um, Spike.." Jet began, "Me and Rose were talking, you think you could give us some space?"

Spike looked blankly from Jet to Rose. 

"You can't do it with me in the room?" Spike said innocently. Rose glared at him darkly.

"It was a private conversation." she hissed meanly. Spike turned slowly laying his eyes on her. 

"You don't have the luxury of privacy, princess." he replied, tightening his eyes. 

"Who are you to tell me what I have and don't have," Rose said angrily, "You don't own this ship any more then I do."

Spike turned his body toward her. He stared at her with a mixture of shock and amusement on his face.

"Don't start, Spike." Jet said, a warning in his voice. 

"No, wait a minute," Spike said, "I don't understand who told her she could walk around telling people what to do. The last I checked, she was the stow away, not me." 

"I asked for your help," Rose hissed through clenched teeth. "and you said yes."

"Only cause I felt sorry for you." he said with a casual wave of the hand. "I tend to do that to the homeless."

Rose gritted her teeth together, listening to the blood pounding in her ears. She couldn't believe his audacity. She wanted to wring his neck then in there, but restrained herself. He went on as if they were just having a pleasant conversation.

"Where is you father, anyway?" he asked imploringly, "Did he abandon you? Wouldn't be to hard to see why."

"Spike!" Jet said loudly. His voice was angry and he looked at Spike with shocked and bulging eyes. Rose made no loud outburst, or threatening gestures. She sat, her eyes locked to Spike's. This was the first time she had gotten a clear look into his eyes. She didn't see what she had expected to see when they met in the bar. There was no trace of that confused, polite, funny man in those miss matched eyes. There was only coldness, and hate. They bared down on her with a weight she could feel mounting on her shoulders. 

"You have no idea what you are talking about," she was only able to murmur. 

"Is that so?" he said, faking a puzzled look. "I know more then you think I do, Princess." 

Spike turned back to the TV screen, seemingly not noticing the hurt stare he was getting from Rose. She sputtered, confused, before she was able to form a sentence.

"Why are you being like this…" she said almost inaudible. Spike turned his shadowy eyes on her again. His expression was cold but for a split second, she thought she saw his expression soften and coldness falter. The second was over before she could even realize it had happened. And the harshness of his voice was more then frightening.

"Because I can."

Rose felt her cheeks tint but she couldn't care less that she was blushing. She was preoccupied with the growing heat behind her eyes as the tears formed. She opened her mouth to speak but closed it. She didn't trust herself to talk. She wasn't sure what type of sounds would fall out of her mouth. She broke the steely death stare with Spike, showing her weakness. Her eyes lingered on Jet, who had his narrowed at Spike. He continued to leer maliciously at her. Why did he seem to have this power over her? She didn't even cry that day, yet he had made her cry twice already. 

Rose furiously wiped the tears out of her eyes. She tried to shoot Spike one of her best "Go to Hell" looks but it didn't work. She raised silently from the yellow couch, turned, and stumbled out of the room. 

***

Spike watched Rose walk unsteadily out of the room, wiping hurt tears from her eyes. He felt a pang of guilt as he watched her sulk away. He was never one to make a girl for cry just to see the tears flowing down her cheeks. He closed his eyes, shaking the liable thoughts from his head.

"What the hell was that about a bout?" Jet yelled. Spike opened his eyes. Jet was looking at him with a mixture of anger and confusion. He stood, leaning over Spike. "I can't believe you!"

"Its all for the best," Spike muttered, taking out a cigarette and lighting it. 

"And why do you say that?" Jet asked, crossing his arms. Spike raised his eyes at Jet. He looked as if he was debating with himself before he lowered his eyes again.

"I know who she is," Spike half whispered. Jet peered curiously at him for moment, but he didn't look to surprised. 

"So you heard?" Jet half asked, half stated. 

"So, I heard." Spike shrugged, puffing his cigarette. Jet ran a hand over his bald head.

"It has nothing to do with you, Spike," he stated, crossing his arms. Spike stopped in the middle of a long drawl, looking up. After a short stare between the two, Spike blew the smoke out in a long line.

"Maybe it does."

Jet threw his hand up in the air in a exasperation.

"Spike, cut the mysterious bullshit!" Jet yelled loudly, "If you have something to say spit it out! If not, just shut up." Jet turned his back, crossing his arms again. Spike's eyes lowered as he debated with himself.

"What I'm saying," Spike said after a lengthy pause, "Is maybe its not a good idea she hangs around." 

Jet didn't turn.

"Because of what you used to be?" he said, more to the opposite wall then to Spike. 

"Yeap," Spike murmured, placing the cigarette back between his lips. 

"I can't turn her out." Jet said, lowering his head to the floor, "There is to much history. She has no where to go." 

"She can't stay here," Spike said seriously, "And I'm not saying this just to be and asshole. it's a fact."

Et rounded around Spike. His face was red and vein throbbed in his neck.

"I dedicated years of my life trying to protect that family," he yelled loudly, pointing at Spike, "I'm not going to send her to her death, just because your scared she'll find out about your past. Hell, I don't even really know about your past." 

Spike was silent. It was true, she had nowhere to go. He had made a deal with Rose. She got the fuel, she stayed as long as she needed. If they turned her out, she would die. But if she found out the truth... 

"Do you want to know the truth, Jet?" Spike asked, his eyes staring straight ahead at the opposite wall. 

"Not really," Jet said, closing his eyes, "But I guess I should."

Spike hesitated. He leaned forward, smothering the cigarette right on the table top. He felt Jet wince, but he didn't say anything. Spike leaned back, putting his feet up. He might as well make himself comfortable. 

"I was there," Spike said softly, "3 years ago, almost to the day." 

Spike looked up at Jet, who just stared back at him looking confused. 

"What do you mean, you were there?" 

"I was there," he said again, shrugging as if it were no big deal, "Or shall I say, I was pretty much put in charge of the whole operation."

Jet stared at him in disbelief. 

"I can't believe this," he muttered breathlessly. 

"Believe it if you want to, but its true," Spike spat. Jet sank into the seat next to him, rubbing his head. 

"She doesn't know who you are," Jet mumbled. Spike looked at him, and eye brow raised.

"Should she? I didn't even remember who she was until today," Spike chuckled darkly, "Its funny how people I was sent to kill become just soulless, faceless blurs in time." 

Jet sat in silence, placing his head in his hands.

"She'd kill you if she knew…" he mumbled again. Spike laughed morbidly.

"I'd kill me too," he said. 

Spike stood from the couch, giving Jet one last look.

"Our secret, okay?" he said with a small smile. Jet didn't respond. Spike turned from him, heading towards the long hall. He entered the poorly light long hall, making his way towards his room. A familiar form was a short way in the distance. Rose was leaning against the wall, her head hanging. Spike again felt the pang of guilt. She was probably still crying, because of what he said. He walked up to her slowly, she didn't look up.

"Hey, Rose," he said softly, "About what I said-"

"You meant every word." she said abruptly. She kept her head hanging, but her arm had raised. The same shinny gun he saw her loading in the bar, was now pointed directly at him. She let out a loud sob.

"Dragon," she whispered. Spike's eyes widened momentarily. 

"So I guess your good at eavesdropping too." he said simply. She raised her head, her eyes were red and tears trailed down her cheeks.

"You killed my father," said stated after another violent sob, "and my mother." 

Spike shook his head slowly, not taking his eyes off her.

"I didn't kill them," he said softly. 

"But you might as well have!" she yelled, "You sure didn't have any problems with killing me." 

Rose inhaled deeply, squeezing her eyes shut and stood up straight. She wiped her cheeks dry with her free hands. She inched closer to him, holding the gun only an inch away from his forehead. Spike stared straight into her eyes. 

"You're right," he said, "I didn't." 

"For that alone, you deserve to die," she hissed, "All dragons deserve to die." 

"I'm not a part of that anymore." 

"Liar!" Rose yelled again. She closed her eyes, choking back another sob, "Don't lie to me."

"I'm not," Spike said, his eyes burning into hers, "I wouldn't."

Rose shook her head violently. 

"I spent last ten years running for my life," she chocked out, "all because of people like you. Then when I finally think I'm safe, you yourself come a long."

She looked as if she was going to drop the gun. Spike made a slow movement to take it from her but she straightened up quickly. She pressed the tip right against his forehead. 

"No," she said, "Don't you dare, you deserve this and you know it."

"You may be right," he said softly, "But if you really wanted to kill me, you would have pulled the trigger already." 

"I'm not a murder like you," she spat, "I have trouble when it comes to ending lives."

"A weakness someone living for revenge shouldn't have."

"I feel that weakness slowly leaving me now," Rose said, as her hand tightened on the trigger.

Spike kept his eyes locked on Rose. He showed no signs of fear. He kept his face blank. He knew if he could take the gun from her if he really wanted. She looked weak, frightened. Her hand shook slightly and her face was still moist with tears. Another click, Spike closed his eyes. 'So this is it, huh?'

"Put it down Princess."

Spike's eyes flew open. Faye was standing behind Rose, her gun pointed to the back of her head. Rose's eye's were widened, she turned her head just slightly getting a glance of Faye who had a malevolent smile on her face. 

"I knew you were just trouble," Faye sneered, "Biting the hand that feeds you, are we?"

"Faye," Spike said, seriousness coating his voice, "Put the gun down."

Faye raised her eyebrows at Spike.

"What the hell, I'm trying to help you here!" she yelled.

"Don't help," he snapped, "Just put it down." 

Faye looked from Rose to Spike in total confusion. She made no move to lower her weapon and neither did Rose. Rose stared back into Spike eyes and he was almost shocked at what he saw. Fear, sadness, hatred. He felt a shiver run up his spine. He was a part of what made this girls life hell. 

"The devil wants something from me," she said. 

"I know how you feel," Spike said 

Rose let out a high pitched, crazed laugh.

"No, I don't think you do," she shook her head. Her voice sounded muffled and strained, "You can't possibly know how I feel.

"Spike I'm gonna shoot her," Faye said, a sound of panic in her voice. 

"Just shut up, Faye!" Spike yelled impatiently. 

"I just can't live like this anymore," Rose went on as if no one had spoken. Her shoulders trembled as she was overcome with sobs. 

"I know," Spike said. He rose his hand slowly towards the gun, "It will all be okay." 

Spike was able to close his hand around the nozzle, but she wrenched it out of his grasp. He went rigid as she pointed it directly at his forehead again, a newfound strength on her face.

"Tell the devil he can have my soul, if he lets me live my life." 

And then a loud bang ripped through the rusted air. 


End file.
